


Hermione's Chamber of Secrets

by thequidditchpitch_archivist



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Heterosexual Sex, Second War with Voldemort, The Quidditch Pitch: Erotic Couplings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-04-30
Updated: 2009-04-30
Packaged: 2018-10-27 12:13:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10808787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thequidditchpitch_archivist/pseuds/thequidditchpitch_archivist
Summary: Harry is good at spotting the devious but occasionally misses what is right under his nose.





	Hermione's Chamber of Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).

  
Author's notes:

 

* * *

"Harry, what's up with you?" Ron was sounding more than a little exasperated. Harry looked up, startled by Ron's sudden interruption of his musing.

"Oh, sorry, Ron," he said. "Did you say something?"

"Only three times," Ron grouched. 

"I guess I was miles away," Harry murmured.

"I'll say," Ron said. "What were you thinking about?"

"Oh, nothing in particular. Mainly about spells and charms."

"Crikey, I'd have thought you'd have had enough of those for one day. Anyway, I'm going down to watch the Hufflepuff Quidditch practice. They've got a new chaser and she's pretty cute. Do you want to come?" Harry grinned, quite sure that Ron was secretly hoping he'd say no.

"No, I don't think so, Ron. I'm going to stay here and do a little cramming. I just know that Snape will set a killer exam for the end of term and I'm not going to give him any reason to fail me."

"Good for you, Harry!" said Ron. "Okay, I'll see you later."

Ron hurried out of the common room. Harry slumped back in his chair and returned to his musing. The truth was that he needed some time to himself to think. Life at Hogwarts had been unbelievably hectic and full of new experiences, many of them terrifying, and the fact that he had survived to this point had been a matter of considerable luck and skill, with absolutely no guarantee that his problems were now over. The fact that he had enjoyed recognition and praise from Dumbledore and senior members of staff, together with his reputation of being the only soul known to have withstood an attack from the evil Voldemort, had served mainly to isolate him from everyone except Hermione, Ron and the rest of the Weasleys... and, of course, his godfather, Sirius. 

He'd not really ever had an opportunity to live as other fifteen year-olds did. In most respects, he didn't really mind that too much but he was now facing a situation for which nobody had prepared him and which he felt unable to discuss with anyone around him... even Ron who was, it now seemed, being affected by the same influences. He would have talked to Sirius, perhaps, but only if had he been around because Harry's problem was one that needed a face-to-face chat, not an exchange of owls.

Simply put, Harry's hormones were raging. Until now, he had been too preoccupied with events to be more than peripherally aware that something new and momentous was happening to him but, now that things had settled down once more after his most recent battle against the forces of evil, he had a little spare time on his hands. One of the by-products of this was that he had become very aware of the female of the species. His attraction to Cho had faded with the death of Cedric Diggory, and now, specifically, he had become very aware of Hermione. 

It had come upon him with the suddenness of a thunderclap. For sure, he'd thought that she had looked lovely at the Yule Ball but he was fixated on Cho at the time. This powerful new attraction had hit him quite unexpectedly one evening in the common room. One minute, she was just good old Hermione and then Ron had cracked a joke and she threw back her head to laugh. A bemused Harry had been instantly captivated by the twinkle in her hazel eyes, the curve of her little snub nose, the sparkle of her white, even teeth, the smooth line of her neck and the gloss of her hair. In that moment, he felt his heart thump and his stomach lurch. He saw her as he had never seen her before and realised, in a flash, that "good old Hermione" had suddenly become a very beautiful and extremely appealing young woman.

In some ways, he understood that his sudden attraction to Hermione was not altogether surprising. From the moment he had entered Hogwarts for that first momentous year, she had been a part of his life, studying with him and being deeply involved, together with Ron of course, in all his adventures. But he'd always viewed her as simply a trusted friend on whom he could always rely and who was a walking encyclopaedia on many arcane subjects that had served their needs more than once. The fact that she was also a girl had been purely incidental.

Now, however, he was keenly aware of all the changes that the passage of time had wrought with her. When they first met on the Hogwarts Express, he neither knew, nor would he have cared that, like English schoolgirls everywhere, Hermione had shortened her regulation grey skirt so that it ended at the knee and not the required three inches below but, back then, her legs were thin and her knees were knobbly. Now, however, she had grown several inches taller and the regular exercise in which all students participated had shaped her legs to a most eye-catching symmetry, often drawing Harry's attention as she walked up a staircase ahead of him. It was not helped by the fact that her "regulation" skirt now ended some six inches above the knee, offering him the occasional delicious glimpse of an inner thigh as she swished her way up to the upper floors.

Nor, on that first meeting aboard the Hogwarts Express, would it ever have crossed Harry's mind to notice that Hermione was so flat that you could iron a shirt on her chest. Now, though, she had developed the most enticing curves in that area and her white school blouses clearly showed the deeper white outline of a bra being worn underneath them. She was moderately endowed but size was not the point. Hermione had breasts and Harry feared that he was becoming obsessed with the desire to see them... to see her... all of her... naked. He knew that it was an unworthy thought and he did his best to suppress it but it simply would not stay suppressed. It even invaded his dreams with the inevitable sticky consequences that filled him with guilt the first time it happened, despite the huge surge of pleasure that it also gave him.

In desperation, he pored through some of the more esoteric tomes in the school library but while he could find a charm for changing a mushroom into an umbrella or a spell for causing meteorological havoc in Nether Wallop, nothing seemed to have been set down for helping young wizards offset the natural carnal cravings of adolescent boys. Having been a loner for so long, he couldn't know that what he was experiencing was easily explained. He was a young, healthy male. 

Moreover, Hermione was the one young woman with whom constant contact had, until now, made him feel totally comfortable. Nonetheless, he was baffled that he had not noticed until a couple of months ago how attractive she had become. Had he had a more normal Muggle upbringing, he would have known that attraction to the opposite sex amongst young adolescents had been going on since the dawn of humankind and that it exercises a drive that is as powerful as magic itself. Sadly, this was - as yet - a mystery to him.

On a rational level, and with so much expected of him, he was anxious to behave in an honourable fashion. Even so, there had been a moment when he'd considered using the Cloak of Invisibility to sneak into the girls' dorm and shower area to fulfill his persistent fantasy. He finally rejected the idea, in part because he knew it would be wrong but also because he reasoned that the logistics of slipping into the girls' dorm might prove more difficult than appeared at first glance. It occurred to him that many horny young male students had attended Hogwarts before him and he would likely not be the first of them to attempt to sneak into the girls' quarters. If he knew anything about Dumbledore, there would almost certainly be some powerful magic at work to make sure that such a thing didn't happen... even with a Cloak of Invisibility hiding the would-be young Casanova from the eyes of others.

So it was that Harry abandoned the idea and resigned himself to enjoying such occasional fleeting glimpses of Hermione's burgeoning charms as the fates allowed. It was in this frustrated state of mind that he went down to join Ron and Hermione for breakfast the following morning. Hermione was in animated conversation with Ron about the unexpected properties of the Muckleberry plant as a component of love potions. Ron had been listening with only half an ear, his mind still savouring the unexpected properties of Melanie Ribblesdale, the new Hufflepuff Chaser, but the words "love potion" did cause him to pay slightly closer attention to what Hermione was saying. They looked up as Harry joined them and, after a few moments, the talk turned to the upcoming end-of-term exams.

Just as they were finishing their orange juice, there was the sound of whirring wings from the far end of the dining hall announcing the arrival of that day's post. Ron noted, with rising alarm, that the family owl was heading straight for him. His mind raced to review what errors of omission or commission he might be guilty of that might cause his mother to send him another Howler. He had no wish to be embarrassed again in front of the entire school. As the envelope dropped into his outstretched hand, he was relieved to see that it was a regular letter. He opened it and his eyes sped over the contents. After the first couple of sentences, he smiled and let out a cheer but, as he read on, his face dropped and the smile died.

"What is it, Ron?" Harry asked.

"It's from Mum. It's about the summer holidays. She's just heard from my Uncle Bruce and Aunt Sheila that they, and their four kids, are coming for a visit... all the way from Australia... for six weeks!"

"Wow... fantastic," said Harry.

"Well, yes... and no," said Ron unhappily.

"What do you mean?" asked Hermione.

"With six extra people in the house, we'll be crammed to the gills. There won't be room for Harry to stay the whole summer this year as we'd planned."

Harry tried not to let his deep disappointment show. He had been looking forward to staying with the Weasleys and he had absolutely no intention of ever returning to the hateful atmosphere of his former "family" home with the Dursleys at number four, Privet Drive if he could possibly avoid it. This news meant that his only alternative was to remain at Hogwarts for the first six weeks of the school holidays while everyone else was off enjoying themselves. Maybe after their visiting relatives went back to Australia he could spend the last week with Ron's family, as long as Mrs. Weasley was not too tired to have another guest so quickly. He put on a brave face.

"Not to worry, Ron," he said. "I'll stay on here. It will give me some time to explore the library and catch up on some of the reading I've been meaning to do for ages and it will be much better than going back to the Dursleys."

"I feel really rotten about this, Harry," Ron moaned. "You will come and stay as soon as they leave, though, won't you?"

"I'd like that," Harry smiled.

Hermione said nothing. She knew Harry well enough to know that this must have come as a hard blow and that he was certainly feeling a lot more upset than he was allowing himself to show. The three friends fell silent while they finished their meal as there was nothing much anyone could say to relieve the gloom that had descended with Ron's announcement. As she went back to her room, Hermione was deep in thought and by the time she got there, she had made a decision.

The next two days raced past. The first one was spent revising and the second in taking the first of the end-of-term exams. As Harry had predicted, the Potions paper, set by Professor Snape, was monstrously difficult but, thanks to his cramming, Harry felt that he might scrape a passing grade. Hermione, of course, breezed through it. At least the unrelenting round of revision and test papers kept Harry from fretting about the holidays. 

Finally, the exams were all finished and it was the day before the end of term. The three friends were sitting comparing notes of the previous day's Transfiguration exam when one of the first year students rushed up to Hermione to tell her that a small trunk had been delivered for her. At this news, Hermione smiled broadly.

"I'll be right back," she called out over her shoulder as she hurried off towards the main entrance.

"What do you reckon that's all about?" said Ron.

"I've no idea," said Harry. "Maybe it's a new trunk for her to send stuff home for the summer."

When she returned a short while later, Hermione was grinning.

"What are you so happy about, Hermione?" Ron demanded.

"It's a surprise for Harry."

Harry looked puzzled. "A surprise for me?" he said. "What have you been up to now?"

"Well," Hermione replied, "I hope that you're not going to be mad at me, but I was talking with Hagrid the other day and he was saying that he'd been invited to visit a cousin of his in some isolated part of Wales. Apparently, this cousin has a small farm, way off the beaten track, where he raises Gryphons. You know how nutty Hagrid is about magical animals, and he really wants to go, but it would mean that there would be nobody here to look after Fang and all the other animals. He told me all this on the morning Ron got his owl so he hadn't heard that Harry's staying here for the start of the hols."

She turned to smile at Harry.

"I said that you'd probably be happy to take care of the animals for him."

"Of course I would," Harry said at once.

"Yes," Hermione grinned, "...well, he thought about it and said that I was probably right but that, if he went, he would need to be gone for about ten days and that feeding and mucking out was too big job for one person... even for Harry Potter. So I asked him 'What if I were here to help him?' 'But you won't be,' he said. 'I could be,' I told him. Well, you know Hagrid. He pulled on his beard and pondered the idea for simply ages, before admitting that the two of us together could probably manage things, but it still took me another ten minutes to convince him to let us do it. Finally he agreed, so I asked Professor McGonagall if it would be all right for me to stay here to help you look after the animals until Hagrid got back... and she said yes, as long as my parents approved. Of course, Mum and Dad were fine with the idea. 

"That's what the trunk was all about. Mum sent me some of my summer clothes so I won't have to wear my beastly uniform all the time."

She stopped talking suddenly and cast an anxious glance at Harry.

"You are pleased, aren't you, Harry. I mean, it'll be a lot of hard work but we'll still have lots of time for other things as well... maybe explore some of the local area, do research... that sort of thing."

Harry was more than pleased; he was thunderstruck. 

"Of course I'm pleased," he grinned, "but weren't you going away with your parents?"

"I still am... but not right away. Muggle companies are pretty stingy with their time off. Dad only gets two weeks holiday in the summer, which means our trip won't be for another three weeks yet. Hagrid should be back from Wales before then so I can still be home in time to go with them."

Ron gave Harry a broad, knowing wink.

"That's brilliant, Harry," he said. "Just the two of you. Very cosy!"

He was echoing Harry's own racing thoughts exactly. The idea of having Hermione to himself for a time might prove to be a curse or a blessing but, either way, it sure beat being by himself.

But just maybe this was a sign that she was interested in him too? As if reading his mind, Hermione poured cold water on that idea.

"My main concern, of course, is to give poor Hagrid a break, but it did seem that I might be able to kill two birds with one stone."

"Of course," said Harry at once. "It was a very kind thought, Hermione"

"Yes," said a somewhat chagrined Ron. "A very kind thought."

"Well that's all right then," Hermione grinned. "I'll go and unpack. See you later." She bounced off, leaving Harry and Ron staring after her.

***

The next day saw all the departing pupils, still wearing their school uniforms, bidding cheerful and tearful goodbyes to each other. There was much hugging between close friends, especially amongst the graduating students who were busily exchanging addresses and promises to keep in touch. The smaller kids were stuffing their pockets with treats to eat on the train and there was constant noise and bustle in the Entrance Hall as successive waves of students, under the watchful eye of the House Captains, hurried to catch the boats and coaches that would ferry them to the railway station. Together, Hermione and Harry watched the frantic activity from the relative calm of the first floor landing. About mid-morning, Ron, Ginny and the Weasley twins appeared in the hallway, all ready to leave together. Hermione and Harry hurried down to say goodbye to them.

"Sorry about all this, Harry," Ron said.

"Yes," said Ginny. "It won't be the same at home without you."

"Thanks, Ginny," Harry smiled "but you've got all your cousins to meet and get to know... and, anyway, I'll see you all in about six weeks."

"You'd better," Ron replied. "Mum'll be bloody upset if you don't come."

"Tell her I'll be there, and thank her for the invitation, especially when she'll have been so busy,"   
Harry said. "Now go, or you'll miss the train. Don't worry about us. We'll be fine... and have a great summer with your relatives."

"Yes, have fun all of you," Hermione said.

"You too," they chorused. On their way to the doors, the twins looked back.

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do!" they shouted.

"That gives us a lot of latitude," Harry called back. With a gust of laughter, the Weasleys departed. An hour later, the last students and most of the staff had left and an uncommon silence settled on the school.

Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall, who were remaining at Hogwarts to attend to administrative work, prepare for the new intake next term and to be responsible for their two young charges, had agreed that it made more sense for Hermione and Harry to eat in the Gryffindor Common Room than in the main dining hall. Together, Harry and Hermione headed up the staircase to greet the fat lady in the portrait guarding the door.

"Password?" she demanded.

"Amicus Aeturnum," Harry replied.

"Thank you, Harry," said the fat lady and the portrait swung open.

"Do you think we will be..." Hermione asked as they passed into the common room, "...friends for ever I mean?"

"I don't see why not," Harry smiled. "I'd never have survived Hogwarts this far without you and Ron so, yes, I reckon we'll all be friends for ever."

Hermione turned away quickly and hurried to one of the over-stuffed and very comfortable armchairs.

"I wonder what's for lunch?" she said. "I'm starving!"

Harry was puzzled by the sudden change of topic but dismissed it. He was hungry too. He sat opposite her, once more aware that Hermione's grey skirt was remarkably short and secretly wondering what it might reveal but, to his disappointment, she kept her knees decorously close together. 

"Pabulum," she called, and immediately food materialised on the low table in front of them. There was a delicious soup of fresh vegetables and savoury herbs, chicken in a piquant sauce baked into a flaky pastry shell accompanied by Carrots Marguerite and Duchesse Potatoes. Dessert was treacle tart and custard, one of Harry's favourites. 

Relaxing happily after the meal, Harry tried hard not to stare at Hermione. It was a unique situation for him to be alone with an attractive girl in a virtually deserted building and he found himself suddenly shy, something he had never been before with Hermione. He knew that he wanted to move their relationship in a new direction but was at a loss as to how to do it. He sat   
pondering what to say next.

Hermione solved his dilemma.

"Hagrid wants us to go over to his cottage this afternoon. He's going to leave us a mass of written   
notes on the animals but he wants to walk us through the feeding and cleaning routines before he leaves."

"Okay," said Harry. "That sounds like a brilliant idea. I'd much rather see for myself than try to figure out what Hagrid means from his notes."

"Yes, well if we're going to be traipsing round the animal pens, and with school now officially over for the year, I'm going to change out of this wretched uniform. You should, too."

"I don't have any other clothes that still fit me," said Harry.

Hermione thought for a moment. "Hmm, maybe Professor Dumbledore will have an idea." 

"I don't like to trouble him for something so trivial."

"Nonsense. After what you've been through, he'll be only too delighted to help."

With that, she marched out to find Dumbledore, followed by a still-protesting Harry.

Dumbledore, when located, was indeed happy to help and assured Harry that, by the time he got back to his room, he would find his wardrobe fully stocked.

"Including Wellington boots?" asked Hermione. "We're going to be mucking out the animals while Hagrid's gone."

"Including Wellington boots," Dumbledore smiled.

Twenty minutes later, Hermione and Harry met up in the Entrance Hall. She was now dressed in a pair of faded jeans tucked into black "wellies". She also wore a chequered, long-sleeved shirt under an old, navy-blue, sleeveless pullover. But the thing that stunned Harry was the cheeky, black, peaked cheese-cutter hat that she wore jauntily over her hair which she had twisted into a coil on the back of her head. She looked at the same time, dressed for work and an extremely fashionable young woman. Harry wasn't sure but he thought that she might even be wearing a touch of makeup but, if she was, it was extremely subtle and an absolute first.

"Holy Smokes, Hermione," he gasped. "You look great."

"What, in these old things?" she smiled. "Come on. Hagrid's waiting."

They went out into the fresh air. The sun was partially hidden behind a light covering of fluffy white clouds but it was still warm and they walked silently down the slope towards Hagrid's cottage. Suddenly Hermione stopped.

"What is...?" Harry started to say but Hermione held up her hand.

"Shh... listen," she said.

They stood side by side and listened.

"I don't hear anything," said Harry.

"Exactly!" Hermione nodded. "I've never been at Hogwarts during the day when there hasn't been the sound of kids, maybe playing Quidditch or telling jokes, taking classes... stuff like that. But now... you can hear only the sounds of nature. It's so peaceful."

She stood stock still for a moment and then marched off again.

"Come on," she called. "Hagrid will be wondering where we've got to."

Harry hurried to catch up with her, more puzzled than ever. Hermione, who seldom stopped talking when she didn't have her head in a book, was now praising the virtues of silence. What other surprises did she have in store for him over the next couple of weeks?

Hagrid was waiting for them at the door of his cottage, a big grin on his face. Fang sat beside him, his great tongue lolling from his mouth, panting slightly in the heat.

"There you are," Hagrid greeted them. "Thanks for taking this on, you two. It means a lot to me."

"No problem, Hagrid," Harry said. "It'll give us something to do and we can take Fang for lots of   
walks."

"He'll like that," Hagrid laughed. "He'll wag his tail off! Come on then. I'll show you the routine."

He led the way round to the back of the cottage with Hermione, Harry and Fang trailing behind him. The next couple of hours flew by. Even though they had learned a lot in Hagrid's "Care of Magical Animals" classes, there was a lot more that they hadn't yet encountered. At last, with all the creatures fed and watered, they went into the cottage where the kettle was boiling merrily on the hob. Over tea and rather chewy crumpets, Hagrid passed over a sheaf of notes to Hermione, and then proceeded to run through the contents of all of them. They covered every possible contingency and emergency that his vivid imagination could conjure up. Finally he ran out of even the most unlikely eventualities and sat back in his chair.

"Now, Harry," he said earnestly, "if anything unforeseen happens, send me an owl at once. I'll be at my cousin's place. I've written down the address because heaven alone knows how you pronounce it."

He handed Harry a slip of paper. On it was written in Hagrid's unmistakable scrawl:

Rubeus Hagrid  
Care of Owen Dafydd Jones  
Gryphon Farm  
Dyrysgol  
Wales

Harry studied the paper carefully and put it safely in his pocket.

"Don't you worry, Hagrid," he assured the gentle giant. "Nothing is going to happen and there can't be anything left that you haven't foreseen. So go and have a good holiday. We'll take good care of things while you’re away."

"I'm sure you will, Harry," Hagrid murmured but didn't sound entirely convinced.

"Have you decided when you are leaving?" Hermione asked him.

"Early tomorrow morning, if that's all right with you two," he replied.

"Of course it's alright," Harry said. "We'll come by every morning and evening and, in a real emergency, we'll send an owl and talk with Professor Dumbledore."

"Aye, he'll know what to do right enough. Just so long as you let me know too."

"We will. We will," said Harry insistently.

Hagrid grinned. "Right then. I'll do some packing."

They left him whistling to himself and throwing spare clothes into a large draw-string bag.

***

The next day dawned bright and sunny, with the promise that it would get very warm later. Harry and Hermione, dressed in their work clothes, got to Hagrid's about nine o'clock but he had already left. There were several more notes waiting for them in the cottage, filled with more afterthoughts but containing nothing that they hadn't covered already... more than once. By 11.15, the two of them had finished the morning's chores and were wandering back towards the school.

"Fancy exploring some of the local area?" Harry asked Hermione.

"Okay," said Hermione. "You know, we've never followed the path that goes around the edge of the Forbidden Forest. What do you say that we head that way?"

"Great idea," said Harry. "We could either leave right after lunch or maybe take a picnic with us."

"A picnic," Hermione said immediately. "We'll need to be back around four o'clock so the earlier we start, the more we can explore. Just give me time to shower and change and we can leave."

"Great. I need a shower too. I'll meet you by the front door around 11.45. Oh, and I'll take care of the picnic. Maybe bring a small backpack if you have one."

Harry hurried through his shower, pulled on a pair of corduroy pants and a light short-sleeved shirt, uttered the words "Pabulum Portabilis', scooped the resultant food into his backpack and hurried down to the Entrance Hall. It was nearly ten minutes before Hermione arrived but when she did, Harry was again stunned by the transformation. She wore a pair of sturdy walking boots, ankle socks, blue-jean shorts, cut VERY short, and a short yellow T-shirt. 

He stared at her never-before-seen, long, luscious legs and at the way her top clung to her slender figure. It also left a band of bare flesh at her middle and, for the first time, Harry saw that she had a slender waist, which accentuated her curves even more. School blouses tended to bag out where they tucked into the skirt, disguising the waistline. 

This time, he was almost certain that she was wearing makeup that accentuated her eyes and gave a light blush to her cheeks. Her lips, too, hinted at an application of soft pink lipstick. He had never seen her look more attractive but he bit back the automatic reaction to tell her so. She had dismissed his comment last time but his face must have told her what he was thinking. She smiled, but said nothing.

"Ready?" she asked.

"Er... yes." He stammered.

"Good. Let's go." She stuck her thumbs under the straps of her backpack, squared her shoulders – which had the effect of pushing her breasts out – and strode off through the door followed by a totally captivated Harry.

They walked for about an hour, skirting the forest and then struck off along a footpath that led down to a trickling stream. They followed the bank alongside the water and, after about a quarter of a mile, the river broadened for a short distance to form a wide pool, then flowed on again between narrowing banks until it was back to a stream again. There was a little stand of shade trees beside the pool and a stretch of grass, which made a perfect place for a picnic. 

The two of them stopped, dropped their backpacks to the ground and sat down to rest for a moment. A couple of moorhens paddled nervously to the opposite side of the water but, seeing that the intruders appeared to be harmless, they soon paddled back out and started diving for food again.

Hermione stretched out and rested her hands on the ground behind her as Harry began to unpack the food and drink.

"Beautiful," she said dreamily.

"Yes," Harry agreed, drinking in her long, bare legs. "Beautiful indeed."

They didn't talk a lot as they ate. Once they had finished, Hermione lay back on the grass, tucked her back-pack under her head, placed hands by her sides, and closed her eyes. Harry put the plates back in his pack and then lay on his side facing her, elbow on the ground and his head resting in his hand. He took in the light sheen of perspiration on her brow, watched the slow rise and fall of her breasts and admired the flatness of her stomach. He also noted that her legs were already starting to tan. Time seemed to stand still and he felt that he could have stayed there all afternoon just looking at her. After about five minutes, however, her eyes snapped open. She saw him gazing at her and gave him a slight smile.

"Can't lie here all afternoon," she said, jumping to her feet. "We must come back here again though. It a great place to get a little privacy."

She jumped up, looked around her and saw that one of the trees had a large branch overhanging the bank and the pond. It was about eighteen inches above her head. She ran a couple of paces forward, jumped, grabbed on to the branch and hung on. As she did so, her T-shirt rode some way up her rib cage, exposing an even wider band of bare skin than ran from about three inches below her navel to some four inches above it.

Harry was in torment. He had just got used to the idea that Hermione had great legs and here she was innocently displaying more of her nubile body than he had ever seen before. He was so relieved that he was wearing tight underwear and cords because he had no control over the reaction he had to being faced with this level of temptation. He felt an overwhelming desire to run forward, grab her by the hips and blow raspberries into her belly-button. He forced the idea back and, instead, made as though he was going to tickle her.

"Harry Potter, you beast... don't you dare," she shrieked, dropping back to the ground.

He grinned, picked up his backpack and slipped it on. "Another half-an-hour along here and then we should be heading back," he said.

Hermione nodded and picked up her own pack. She was looking thoughtfully at Harry again.

The rest of the day passed without incident. The following morning started with the same routine... walking Fang, feeding the animals and cleaning out their pens and stalls. As they were finishing washing down the concrete floor of the barn, Hermione slipped on the wet floor and sat heavily on her butt. She let out a loud "Oof!" and Harry turned to see what had happened.

"Are you okay?" he asked anxiously as he hurried towards her.

"Apart from a large damp patch on my seat, only my dignity is hurt," she said. She stuck out her arm. "Help me up, will you please, Harry."

Harry reached down and took her hand, pulling her up to her feet again. As soon as she was standing, he let her hand go again. 

Under different circumstances, it would have been an insignificant incident but not for Harry and certainly not now. There comes a moment in the life of any young heterosexual male when he forms a serious crush on a girl for the first time. In the beginning, it is usually enough for him to admire her from a distance but that is quickly supplanted by the pressing need to be near her and talk with her. If, at that point, the attraction persists, there is an agonizing decision to be made. Do you risk any form of physical contact? If she is feeling the same thing that you are, the result can be bliss. If, however, she sees you as nothing more than a friend, the result will likely be disaster. She will never feel comfortable around you again, knowing you want something from her that she is not willing or not able to give.

Harry had always been around Hermione at Hogwarts, so that wasn't an issue but now he had reached the point where he craved some simple physical contact. In his mind's eye, he saw Hermione and himself walking hand in hand, but so much would then ride on her reaction if he decided to reach out and take her hand in his that he had been too nervous to try it. She'd given him no reason to think that such a move would be welcome if it implied romantic overtones. Indeed, there was a better than average chance that she would reject any amorous advance and, worse, it could sour their friendship for ever. 

Harry knew that he and Hermione were destined to spend several more years together before they graduated and he could not bear the thought of alienating one of his two best friends by acting inappropriately. All these thought went racing through his mind until he suddenly realised that Hermione had said something and he'd missed it. His mind snapped back to the present.

"I'm sorry, Hermione, what did you say?"

"I asked you if you would please toss down a couple more bales of hay from the loft."

"Oh, sure," Harry said.

He went to the end of the barn and climbed up the ladder to the loft. Dozens of hay bales were neatly stacked along one wall, except where some of them had split open and strewn their contents, covering the floor with a thick layer of sweet-smelling straw. Harry grabbed a pitchfork from beside the open door at the far end of the loft, spiked a couple of the bales and tossed them down to the floor below where Hermione pushed them to a spot beside the feed bins. Chores finished, they headed back to the school.

"What would you like to do later?" Harry asked.

"Why don't you pick this time," Hermione replied.

"Okay, how about taking the path that runs along the hills beside the lake? We should be able to find a way down to the water somewhere."

"That's a great idea. I'll fix the picnic this time and see you in the Hall."

Harry had decided to wear khaki shorts and a white T-shirt. Hermione's shorts were dark blue and she had on a dark blue, short-sleeved shirt. They set out under sunny, cloudless skies. The lake was huge and looked more like an inland sea from this point of view. The hilltop path was breezy and there were small whitecaps on the black water far below them. Small waves broke   
and retreated on the shore. Birds were wheeling and diving overhead, uttering raucous cries but, otherwise, there was not a living thing in sight.

They had been walking for almost an hour when Hermione pointed ahead to where the hilltop dipped much lower. 

"Look Harry, there's a cove down there and isn't that a pathway going down to the water?"

Harry sighted along her pointing finger.

"You're right," he laughed. "Gosh, you've got sharp eyes."

They hurried on and ten minutes later found themselves at the start of the steeply descending side track that led off the main path.

"Take it easy going down," Harry warned. "I'll lead the way and you follow."

Slowly, they made their way down the uneven path, finally finding themselves at the edge of a broad, grassy meadow. Following the track across it, they emerged, through a small copse, onto a stretch of sand dunes and then onto a wide, sandy strip of beach that was completely sheltered from the wind. 

Hermione dropped her pack, undid her laces and pulled off her boots, then peeled off her ankle socks. She walked, barefoot, down to the black water and allowed one of the waves to roll over her toes. The water was pleasantly warm. She turned and came back to where Harry was standing beside her abandoned footwear. To his amazement, she started to unbutton her shirt.

"Hermione, what are you doing?" he stammered.

"I'm going for a swim," she answered. "Are you coming?"

"I didn't bring a costume," he said, his eyes locked on Hermione's fingers as, one after another, the shirt buttons were being undone.

"Well that was dumb of you," Hermione said. "You were the one who said that we might find a beach somewhere."

She flipped open her shirt. Harry had been holding his breath in anticipation and was only slightly disappointed to discover that she was wearing a white bikini top under it. Her shorts quickly followed her shirt to the sand, revealing the matching bottom half of the swimsuit. Without a glance at him, she ran back down to the water. Moments later, she was splashing and rollicking around in it, laughing gaily as she was rocked gently up and down in the gentle swell.

Harry couldn't decide if he was ecstatic or downright miserable. On the one hand, he had seen more of Hermione's body in the past two days than he could ever have expected to see anywhere but in his imagination... and there was no doubt in his mind that the real thing was far more alluring than in even his wildest dreams. But it was also torture to have such a desirable body so close and yet to feel unable to touch it for fear of spoiling, even destroying, the whole friendship between them. And Hermione, he was sure, had no idea of what she was unwittingly doing to him.

Ten minutes later, she was racing up the beach towards him, her young breasts bouncing up and down as she ran, and her long legs shedding droplets of water.

"That was brilliant," she panted. "You should have come in."

She bent over her backpack and his eyes were instantly drawn by her cleavage as she felt around for her comb and a towel. She spread the towel on the sand, then stood on it, legs astride, head tilted back, eyes closed, combing her hair while allowing the sun to dry her body. Try as he would, Harry could not prevent himself from gazing in disbelief at the distinct camel   
toe revealed by Hermione's bikini bottom. Thank heavens that she had her eyes closed was all he could think as he dragged his gaze away from her crotch. He took in the whole image of her now, standing so innocently combing her hair, and tried hard to store it in a small compartment of his brain for all time.

The truth was that Harry barely recognized this stunning creature who seemed to have been transformed from a gawky schoolgirl to a heavenly siren before his very eyes. He felt gauche and immature beside her and was sure that she would feel no great affection for a dunce who couldn't even think to bring a pair of swimming trunks to a beach.

This depressing thought didn't stop his body from reacting to her though, and the severe strain that it put on his underwear was causing him actual pain. As Hermione finished combing and shook her head to fan out her hair behind her, Harry prayed that she would not notice the bulge in his shorts. She, however, showed no sign that anything was amiss. She put the comb back into her pack and looked at him.

"You're not going to get a tan like that, Harry," she said. "You could at least take your shirt and shoes off."

Harry rolled his eyes heavenwards. She was right... again. He quickly took of his footwear and pulled his shirt up over his head. He saw Hermione glance at him, then look away. Clearly she was not impressed by his lily-white skin.

"Let's eat," she said, sitting on one end of the towel and patting the other end for him to sit beside her. He did. She passed him a sandwich, took one herself, drew up her knees and wrapped an arm around them, gazing out at the lake.

"It looks so forbidding from Hogwarts," she said, "and yet – when you get close to it – it seems completely different."

"Yes," Harry replied, "But then, many things here are not exactly as they seem when you first see them, are they?"

She looked at him for a long moment before replying. "That's very true, Harry," she said. "Very true indeed."

They sat together enjoying the remainder of the picnic lunch and chatting about this and that. As they did so, Harry kept stealing surreptitious glances at Hermione. Slowly, he adjusted to the amazing sight of her in a bikini and finally the appalling strain at his crotch subsided. When they had finished eating, they cleared up the plates and glasses. Hermione stood up and gave   
Harry an appraising look.

"I'm going to have another quick swim and then I'm going to tan for a while before we go back to Hagrid's. If you wanted, you could join me."

He was about to remind her that he had no costume but she interrupted him.

"I know. You don't have swimming trunks but you could swim in your underwear. I won't look if you're embarrassed."

Harry wasn't embarrassed; he was panic-stricken. The very idea of him prancing around, barely restrained by his Y-fronts, in front of Hermione, had caused him to start getting hard again. If two layers of clothing, one of them heavy twill, could barely contain his rising excitement, what hope did he have that one layer of thin cotton could. She couldn't fail to see his condition. She would be disgusted with him and that would be the end of that.

"Probably not a good idea," he mumbled. "I'll stay here and guard our things, I think."

"From what?" she laughed. "There's nobody for miles."

"Nevertheless..." he managed.

"Suit yourself," she shrugged. This time she walked away, affording Harry a view of her beautifully rounded buttocks swaying sensuously as she moved slowly down to the water. He was thankful that she was not facing him as the tent at his groin was now quite unmistakable.   
He prayed that it would shrink again before she got back. Maybe if he closed his eyes. He did so and, lulled by the warmth, was soon in a deep sleep.

***

When he awoke, he was immediately aware that something was not right. He couldn't move his legs. His eyes snapped open and he found himself gazing up at a grinning Hermione who was busy tamping down the mounds of damp sand with which she had covered him while he dozed. She was straddling him and patting down the layer on his chest, working her way slowly towards his feet. She reached his buried stomach, and bent over, slapping her hand down hard on the sand to compact it. 

He was treated to a view down the valley between her skimpily covered breasts. Lower still and soon she was over his groin just as the inevitable began happening again. Fortunately, the loading on his middle was sufficient to contain the mounting pressure that he would have been otherwise helpless to hide. She was now at his knees and thoroughly enjoying his struggle to   
free himself. 

"Just you wait," he gasped. "I'll..."

"You'll what?" she giggled.

"I'll tickle you till you beg for mercy," he said.

"You'll have to catch me first," she said, now pounding the sand over his feet. Still laughing, she danced back a step or two as he fought to break the sand's hold. Slowly, he felt his fingers wriggling the wet grains aside and then his wrists moved. Straining hard, he managed to force one arm free and, raising it in the air, he pulled one shoulder clear. From that point on, the sand had no chance and he managed to sit upright, scrabbling the sand aside from his legs. Hermione waited just long enough for him to get to his knees and then she sprinted for the water with Harry hot on her heels. She raced along the water line with Harry in pursuit and slowly gaining on her. 

As he reached out to grab her, she dodged sideways and all he gripped was air. She raced on, confident that she could evade his grasp but she had not, perhaps, taken into account that Harry was the Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team and was used to outsmarting the wily golden snitch. The next time that she dodged, he anticipated her and flung his arms around her waist,   
dragging her, squealing with laughter, face down beside the shallow lapping water. Straddling her and sitting on her butt, he stuck his fingers into her armpits and began tickling.

She yelled, screamed and struggled but it was no use. He now had her pinned to the sand and could tickle her at will.

"Do you beg for mercy?" he demanded.

"No," she gasped.

He began to tickle her again and she burst into hysterical laughter.

"Okay, stop, Harry. Please stop," she pleaded.

"Do you beg for mercy?"

"Yes... yes, I beg for mercy."

Harry stopped tickling her and stood up. She pushed herself to her knees. Harry was busy brushing the sand from his body. Hermione jumped up and pushed him... hard. Taken by surprise, he fell into the water just as a larger than average wave broke over him. He was smothered by the small wall of water and staggered to his feet, choking and gasping for air. Hermione guffawed at the sight of him dripping water and he immediately launched himself in her direction but she ran like a hare all the way back to where their clothes sat in a pile on the beach. By the time he reached her, she was standing still and calmly offering him the towel to dry off.

He snatched it out of her hand.

"You brat," he grinned. "You caught me off guard."

"I know," she laughed, "But at least it washed all the sand off you."

"True, but now I have to walk back to Hagrid's place in soggy shorts."

"Never mind," Hermione said. "The sun and the wind will soon dry them out."

Harry pulled on his shirt and Hermione put her shorts and shirt back on over her bikini. They carefully wiped all the sand off their feet before putting their sock and boots back on, picked up their backpacks and began the walk back over the dunes, through the meadow and up the path to the hilltop. The walk back to Hagrid's was the most relaxed that Harry had ever experienced with   
Hermione. They chatted easily about things they had seldom discussed before. He told her all that he knew about his parents and she talked about her mother and father, and her own upbringing amongst Muggles.

***

Late that evening, after they enjoyed cocoa and biscuits together, it was time to go to their separate dorms where Professor McGonagall would look in on Hermione and Professor Dumbledore would stop by for a brief chat with Harry. Hermione stood up and Harry immediately stood too. She looked at him for a moment and then smiled.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said. "I had a lovely day. Thank you."

"Goodnight, Hermione," Harry replied. "It was one of the best days I can ever remember, so thank you too."

She gave him another long look before turning on her heel.

"Sleep well," she called. "See you tomorrow."

After she had gone, Harry went into his bedroom and got ready for bed. He had much on his mind and had just slipped between his sheets when Dumbledore arrived.

"Did you and Hermione have a good day, Harry," he asked.

"We had a wonderful day thank you, Professor," Harry replied.

"That's good. That's good. Animals not causing the two of you too much problem are they?"

"No. Hagrid showed us what needs to be done and I think we have the hang of it now."

"I'm sure you have," Dumbledore smiled. "Well, Harry, you look a little tired so I won't keep you."

"Must be all that fresh air and sun," Harry said.

"Not to mention hard work. Mustn't forget that."

"No, Professor.

"Well, goodnight, Harry. Sleep well."

"You too, sir. Goodnight."

After Dumbledore had left him, Harry lay back and tried to replay the events on the beach in his mind... the electrifying sight of Hermione removing her shirt and shorts, his first glimpse of her in a bikini and his first intimate contact with her while he was sitting on her bum, tickling her. 

In minutes, he was rigid again and he was still in that state when he finally fell asleep. His dreams that night were vivid, complex, nonsensical but, oh, so erotic. When he awoke next morning, however, they slipped from his mind like quicksilver. He still had to change the bedding though.

***

That day, the weather was a little overcast and the temperature had dropped a few degrees from the previous day so, after taking care of the animals and walking Fang, Harry and Hermione decided to spend some time in Hagrid's cottage. Conversation was a little more stilted than on the walk home the previous day. For one reason, Harry was feeling more than a little guilty about the lustful thoughts he harboured for Hermione and the nocturnal outcome they had produced so he was making a real effort to concentrate on other things. 

Hermione busied herself tidying and dusting around the cottage while Harry cleaned some of the tools that were lying around in the barn. At noon, they had a long, lazy lunch together and then sat in comfortable chairs outside, sipping pumpkin juice, with Fang curled up contentedly on Harry's feet.

Harry was still trying to keep his mind off sordid thoughts, but it was like telling someone not to think about the word "wheelbarrow". He was trying to banish the image of Hermione's cleavage from his mind when she suddenly looked over at him.

"Harry," she said, "do you ever think about sex?"

Harry nearly choked on his pumpkin juice.

"Well...," he managed at last.

His mind was racing. Was Hermione reading his mind? No, not possible! But maybe he could use this opening as a means of gently intimating what he was feeling for her in order to gauge her reaction. He was about to move the conversation in that direction when she spoke again.

"I mean, have you noticed how all the most powerful magicians seem to be men, not women. Voldemort, Dumbledore, Snape, Quirrel... while women seem to be consigned to the more passive roles of raising plants and nursing injured students? Why do you think that is?"

Harry's face fell. He should have known. Hermione was simply being academic again. Praise be that he hadn't said what was on his mind. He mumbled an answer about the traditional nurturing roles of women as opposed to the bellicose instincts of the male hunter-gatherer. Hermione listened to him, nodding occasionally but clearly not convinced. Truth to tell, neither was   
Harry. He had not asked to be singled out as the bulwark between Voldemort and the world and he privately thought that Hermione had the potential to be a far more powerful practitioner of magic than he would ever be. Finally, staring off into the distance, he muttered something about 'the gentler sex" and Hermione hurled a cushion at him.

Shocked, he looked over at her and she was laughing at him. He grabbed the cushion and threw it back at her. She squealed, caught it and jumped up. Grabbing it by the corner, she swung it at his head, still laughing. He picked up his own cushion and swung it at her mid section. She twisted sideways and the blow landed fair and square on her backside. She reversed the arc of her swing and her cushion smacked him on the back of his head.

"That's it!!" he roared, launching a flurry of blows in her direction. She screeched with laughter and raced off round the yard. He finally caught up with her as she had almost completed a full circuit of the garden. They exchanged swings and thumps but, by now, they were laughing so hard that there was no force to them. At last, out of breath, they collapsed back into their   
chairs.

"This is nice, Harry. I've never seen you laugh like that before. I'm glad that I decided to stay at   
Hogwarts," she said as she got her breath back.

"There hasn't been a lot to laugh at, when you think about it... until now. And I'm glad you stayed too, even if it was mainly for Hagrid's sake."

Hermione gave him that appraising look again.

"Yes... well, poor Hagrid never gets a break. I thought it was high time he had a few days off," she said.

"Yes," said Harry. "You're quite right. It is."

Hermione said nothing else that offered Harry a chance to test the waters and, once again, the day ended with them sharing cocoa and biscuits together before thanking each other for a nice day and then heading for their separate dorms.

The next day it was raining and extremely muggy. After breakfast, Hermione met Harry in the Hall as usual for the short walk down to Hagrid's cottage. Today, she had picked a pair of old, white jeans, a purple short-sleeved blouse with what looked like a man's black waistcoat buttoned over it... and her jaunty cap again. Harry wore blue jeans and a grey T-shirt. They put on big yellow waterproof capes before setting out on the short walk down the hill to the cottage where they set about feeding the outside animals and cleaning the outside pens first. That done, they moved into the barn and shed their capes before attending to the inside creatures. 

When they had finished, Harry reached up and removed the coiled hose from its hook on the wall, connected it to the tap, turned on the water and handed the hose to Hermione. He grabbed a stiff bristle yard broom and, as she directed the jet, he scrubbed and brushed to help move the residue of the animal waste from the central aisle where they had shovelled and brushed it, towards   
the silage pit that was just outside the barn's main doors. Fifteen minutes later, the floor was glistening wet and clean.

Ignoring the pouring rain, Harry swept the last of the droppings into the pit and turned to go back into the barn. Hermione was standing just inside the door with the hose aimed directly at him, and she was grinning.

"Don't you dare," he warned her.

"Why not?" she laughed. "You're soaked already."

"That's not the point," he said, moving to get past her.

She immediately pointed the hose at him again.

"I'm warning you..." 

She squeezed the trigger and sent a short burst of water in his direction. It splashed over his boots.

"I mean it," Harry said. "I'll tan your backside if you do."

"You wouldn't dare," she said. "I'd turn you into an earwig if you tried."

"Not today, you won't, Hermione. No wand!"

Still laughing, she released another burst in his direction. This just caught the bottoms of his jeans.

"Okay," he said grimly. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

He started after her and she turned the hose on him, full force, hitting him in the chest. The coldness of the water made him gasp. In seconds, he was soaked to the skin, and the spatter had covered his glasses, effectively blinding him. He took them off and stuffed them into his jeans pocket before lumbering in her direction. She gave him another burst and then, squealing, dropped the hose and ran.

She headed straight for the ladder to the hay loft and raced up it. At the top, she jumped into the loft and started to haul the ladder up, trying to get it beyond Harry's reach. She didn't make it. He jumped and caught the ladder by its bottom rung. Hermione tried to haul it up but there was no way she could lift it and Harry too. He pulled it back down and leapt onto it. She squeaked and backed away from the door. First, his head came into view and then his chest. In moments, he was in the loft and advancing on her, still dripping wet. She looked behind her but there was nowhere to escape. Knowing that he had her trapped, Harry was in no hurry. He moved slowly towards her and she kept inching back. Finally, her back was against the stacked up bales and   
still he was coming towards her. She cowered.

"No, Harry, please! I'm sorry."

But he could see she wasn't. For one thing she was still laughing.

"You should have thought of that before you soaked me."

He was right up to her now.

"What are you going to do?" she asked.

"I told you. I'm going to tan your backside."

"You can't," she gasped.

"Why not?" he demanded.

"Because... well, you just can't is all."

Harry gave her a long, intense stare and she cowered a little lower. Suddenly, he grabbed her around the waist, lifted her clean off the ground in a bear hug and sat himself down on one of the single bales of straw around the loft. With the breath being squeezed out of her by his grip, Hermione gurgled and struggled but to no effect. 

Harry was too strong for her and she realised for the second time that she may have underestimated him. She felt herself slipping down his chest and then his hands grabbed her hips and swiftly twisted her body so that she landed, stomach down across one of his legs. He immediately place his other leg over hers, locking them in place and she felt his left hand pushing down hard on the back of her neck.

Hermione struggled and wriggled but Harry had her held fast.

"You can't do this, Harry," she gasped. "It's humiliating."

"So is being soaked to the skin by a trusted friend," Harry said.

Without any further warning, he raised his right hand and delivered a solid slap to Hermione's denim-covered rump. She squealed loudly, more from the surprise than the pain. She hadn't really thought he'd do it.

"Harry Potter. You're a beast."

Whack.

"Ouch. Enough, Harry. That hurt!"

"It was meant to. Are you sorry for soaking me?"

"Not particularly."

Whack.

"Yipes, Harry. That really stings. Quit it."

"I will when you say you're sorry."

"Never."

Whack! Whack! Whack!

"Jumping Jehosophat, Harry. Alright. I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"And you won't do it again?"

"And I won't do it again."

Harry released her and she rolled off his knee to land flat on her back on the bed of straw that covered the floor.

"Until the next time," she grinned.

Exasperated, Harry slid off his seat and landed on the straw, his knees straddling her hips. He grabbed her wrists and pinned them to the ground above her head and glared down at her. She lay there, grinning up at him, totally unrepentant. He was about to turn her over and spank her again but something stopped him. He realised that she was not struggling but just looking up at him, waiting to see what he would do next.

He felt his heart start pounding and felt sure that she must be able to hear it hammering away in his chest. Instinctively he knew that it had to be now or never. He leaned forward and slowly lowered his lips towards hers, fully expecting her to twist her head away... but she didn't. Finally, their lips met and melted into that first, wondrous kiss that he would never forget as long as he lived. Tentatively at first, he repeated the kiss and was overwhelmed to find that it was being   
returned. He rolled off her and stretched out beside her, letting go of her wrists. He placed his hand on her shoulder and leaned over to kiss her again. 

This time, her mouth opened a little way and he felt her tongue brush over his lips. He followed suit and soon they were eagerly exploring each other mouths, probing, nibbling, and then kissing tenderly again. Finally, Harry took a pause to marvel at what had just happened.

"I've wanted to do that for a long time," he told her.

"Well, why didn't you?" she said. "I've been giving you enough hints." 

"Hints?" he said. "What hints?"

"Harry Potter," Hermione exclaimed, "for a brilliant magician, you can be extremely dense. Did it not strike you that my arranging to spend two weeks alone with you was a hint?"

"Well..."

"Or the fact that I suddenly took to wearing shorts and makeup?"

"I know, but..."

"Or that I lay around on a deserted beach, miles from the nearest human, in a tiny bikini?"

"Yes, but you see..."

"Or that I stood around two nights in a row after we'd had cocoa and biscuits, willing you to kiss me goodnight? Or that I challenged you to tickle me? Or that I got physical with you and a pillow? Did none of that seem odd to you?"

"Enough," Harry protested. "the truth is, I didn't know what to think. But, Hermione, rather than drop hints, which I was too dense to pick up on, why didn't you use a charm? I heard you talking to Ron about the properties of the Muckleberry in love potions."

"Isn't that obvious?" Hermione asked. "I want you to like me for who I am and as I am. If I'd used magic, I would never have known what you really thought of me and it wouldn't have been the same."

Harry looked at her and smiled broadly. 

"You're right of course. How dumb am I? I've been fancying you all this time but not wanting to risk ruining our friendship by making a move that might not be welcome. But I haven't been able to get you out of my mind for weeks now. As to seeing you in that bikini, it nearly finished me."

"I know. I saw."

"You saw?" Harry gasped, and felt his face burning with embarrassment. "Oh, god! What must you have thought?"

"Well, I think I'd have been more upset if you'd had no reaction at all. As it was, I took it as a compliment. Do you really think I have a nice body, Harry?"

"Nice?" Harry exclaimed. "How about spectacular?"

Hermione laughed.

"Spectacular's good," she said. "But talking of bodies, yours is still soaking and your teeth are chattering. You have to get out of those wet clothes or you'll catch pneumonia."

With that, she starting tugging at Harry's T-shirt, trying to pull it up over his head.

"Whoa," said Harry, "what are you doing?"

"Getting you out of those wet clothes, of course."

"But I've got nothing else to wear here."

"So? You've seen most of my body. It seems only fair that I get to see yours."

"Yes, but there's a difference... isn't there?"

"Maybe, but if you don't get those things off, and soon, you'll get sick and I can't handle the animals alone. It's your call."

"You mean, take off everything?"

"Uh-huh. Everything."

She was grinning again.

"You set this up, didn't you?" Harry said.

"Uh-huh," Hermione nodded, laughing now. "Come on,   
Harry, get on with it. You're not shy are you?"

"Yes, I bloody am," he said, but he let Hermione pull the T-shirt off. She stood up, and looked around the loft, spotting some rough cloth and a tartan horse blanket by the door. She grabbed them and came back to where Harry was struggling to get his soaking wet jeans off. She grabbed the bottom of the legs.

"Lift your bum," she demanded.

Harry did so and she heaved. The jeans slid down his thighs, then over his knees and finally she was able to whisk them off and drop them to one side. She looked down and saw that he was still uncertain.

"Come on, Harry. Off with them."

Harry was struggling with a dilemma. At present, the freezing water had caused his penis to shrink and he was not at all sure that this was the best first impression to make or, indeed, whether he was ready to make a first impression of any sort. On the other hand, experience told him that it didn't take much to bring his dick surging to attention and what message would that send to Hermione? She was standing there, waiting for him to act. 

"Oh well," he groaned, "in for a penny, in for a pound." 

He heaved his bum up off the floor and pulled his underpants halfway down his thighs, covering himself quickly with his hand. Hermione reached down and pulled this last item of clothing off him. 

She handed him one of the large pieces of rough cloth.

"Here, stand up and use this as a towel. It's quite rough but it'll get your circulation going again."

Harry knew there was no way of doing as she suggested without her seeing everything. He also knew that she was right. He needed to get his circulation going again to feel warm. Once he'd done that, the barn itself was plenty warm. Abandoning all thoughts of modesty, he stood, allowing Hermione her first, brief, full-frontal view of a naked male body before he quickly turned his back to her and began rubbing vigorously to dry himself off. He missed seeing Hermione smile. He was not at all bad looking, she thought.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" she asked.

He half turned to answer her.

"Bloody embarrassed, but I'm starting to feel much warmer already."

"Why don't you face me, Harry?" she said quietly. "Don't you think that I'm as curious about your body as you are about mine?"

As if in a daze, he turned to face her and saw her eyes go immediately to his groin, just as he had stared at her camel toe when she was on the beach. That memory was enough. Under her steady gaze, his prick started to twitch and swell. In stages, it jerked from flaccid to half-mast to fully rampant.

He saw her jaw drop and heard her gasp.

"Harry, it's so big," she gulped.

"Is it?" he said.

"Well, I've no previous experience, but it looks big to me."

"You're not disgusted with me, are you?"

"Why would I be disgusted?" she said. "I told you, it's a sort of compliment. Even so, although I saw the bulge in your pants the other day, I had no idea..."

"I'd better cover myself," he said.

Hermione sat back down on the straw and watched him as he took the horse blanket and folded it in half before wrapping it round his waist like a kilt. He tucked the loose end into the waist and sat down beside her. She smiled at him and he leaned in and kissed her again. She wrapped her arm around behind his head and pulled him to her. They kissed again and then Harry lay down   
on the straw on his back. Hermione stretched out beside him and laid her head on his chest.

Harry reached over and removed her cap, then loosened her hair so that it fell down her back. She leaned over him and they kissed again for several minutes with increasing passion. When they next paused for breath, Harry pushed her flat on her back beside him and propped himself up on one elbow so that he could look down at her.

"Can I ask you something," he said.

"Of course," she answered.

"How long have you been 'dropping hints'?"

"Oh, for about four months."

"Four months!" Harry gasped. "Why didn't you say something?"

"Because it's up to the boy to make the running... not the girl."

"But I thought you were a strong believer in the equality of the sexes."

"In most things, but there are some matters in which I'm quite old-fashioned."

"What would you have done if I hadn't made the first move?"

"I don't know, but let me ask you a question. If you felt the same, why did it take you so long?"

Harry thought for a moment.

"I told you. I was afraid that if you didn't feel the same way about me, I'd ruin our friendship, and nothing would be worth the risk of doing that. In fact, 'afraid' doesn't really cover it. I was terrified. I still am. I don't want to spoil things."

"Harry Potter. What are we going to do about you? Friends forever... remember? You chose that as a password. And if you don't know by now..."

She shook her head in amusement.

Harry felt a great wave of affection pass over him. It didn't quell his lustful thoughts but it did complement them. He thought that Hermione was the most wonderful creature he would ever meet and the most desirable. He felt himself swelling again. He looked at her. She looked at him, lying back in the straw, completely relaxed... unlike him. His hand trembling at what he was about to do, he reached across and started to unbutton the black waistcoat she wore over her purple shirt.

"Harry, what are you doing?" she whispered.

"You've seen all of me," he rasped, trying to catch his breath. "I want to see all of you."

"But you've seen most of me," she said.

"Not the best bits," he smiled.

"Oh," was all she said.

He fumbled all six buttons open and flipped back the vest. Only the top button of her shirt was unfastened but the thin material clung to her like a second skin and Harry was surprised to see two small bumps visible where the gentle swell of her breasts met the fabric. He started at the first closed button and began to work his way down. With the first button undone, he glimpsed   
bare skin and, with second, the top of a strapless bra and the valley between her breasts. 

"Sit up a moment," he urged. 

She did so and he reached round her, slid his hands under her blouse, up her back and unclipped her bra. Then he laid her back on the straw and pulled the bra free. He could now see the darker outline of her areolas through the thin cotton of her blouse. It was enough to bring him fully erect again.

Hermione saw the tent in his "kilt" and looked up at him. She saw his eyes gazing at her chest.

"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Harry," she said, "but there's not a lot to see in that department, I'm   
afraid.

Harry got the last two buttons undone and gently pulled back one side of her shirt. He gasped, as his wildest desire was finally fulfilled. He had revealed a breast that was so sweet, so perfect in his eyes, that he felt tears of joy forming. The flesh was pale white, with a light brown circle at the tip from which extended a hard, pink nipple. He gazed at it in wonder for a minute before looking at her face. She was watching him and he detected the anxiety in her. Suddenly, she was   
no longer the confident one.

"Oh, Hermione," he said. "What are you talking about... disappoint me. You have the most beautiful breasts..."

He giggled suddenly.

"...I was about to say "that I've ever seen" - but yours are the first I've ever seen. But I love them.   
Can I touch it... please?"

Hermione sighed with relief.

"I guess so," she said.

Harry reached out and handled the exposed breast as if it might break. He heard Hermione sigh as his hands finally made contact with her warm flesh. Gently, he squeezed, delighted by the way that it fitted his cupped hand so perfectly and by the way that her hardened nipple pressed into his palm. He bent down and kissed it, and she sighed again.

Encouraged, Harry gave his attention to the waistband of her white jeans. It was a struggle but, eventually, he had it undone. He moved to unbutton the fly, conscious that his knuckles were pressing on her pubic area, causing her to wriggle a little.

"Lift your bottom," he ordered, and Hermione did as he had said.

Harry raised her legs in the air, slid her jeans off and dropped them beneath her, laying her legs back down over them. Now all that stood between him and the final revelation were her white cotton panties. He could see that camel-toe again and he could wait no longer. Using both hands, he reached for the waistband at her hips.

"Lift again," he said.  
  


This time, there was a pause before she complied and, for one moment, he thought that she was going to object, but then she raised her bum and he removed the last veil. She laid back, arms stretched above her head and one breast covered by the shirt. Then she slowly spread her legs for him.

Harry just sat back on his butt and stared. Hermione's pussy was virtually hairless and the outer lips of her labia were just slightly puffed up. The small notch that was her clitoris was just visible but the entrance to her vagina was still concealed... not that Harry knew all that much about female anatomy. It didn't matter. She was everything that he had imagined or dreamt about... and more.

Hermione saw him looking at her most secret area and saying nothing. In spite of her making the running to this point, she was not really that bold.

"Is it alright, Harry?" she asked nervously.

"No, it's not 'alright'," he said and saw the shock on her face.

"It's wonderful... is what it is."

Relief swept over her.

"Oh, Harry, I was so worried you'd be disappointed," she said.

Harry ran his hand over her hairless delta, causing her to shudder.

"I love it, Hermione. It really is wonderful."

He continued to caress the area for a moment and then lay down beside her. She made no move to cover herself. She kissed him again and then looked at him earnestly.

"Can I ask you a favour?" she said.

"Of course. What is it?"

Hermione nodded at the tent in Harry's "kilt", which had not in any way subsided.

"Can I look at it again... and touch it, maybe?"

In spite of their new intimacy, Harry could not help feeling embarrassed still, but he nodded agreement.

"I guess, but will you take your blouse off first. If I'm going to be completely naked, so should you be."

Hermione immediately sat upright and slipped the shirt and vest off her shoulders, tossing it to one side. She heard Harry's intake of breath and saw him gazing at her breasts. Her nipples hardened again and she reached out to pull the tucked-in end of the blanket free from his waist, flipping the coarse fabric aside. Harry sat back, legs splayed and his penis standing bolt upright.   
Hermione studied it for a long moment, especially the folds of loose skin at its tip, with the round pink tip pushing through.

"Is that a foreskin?" she asked.

"Er... yes," Harry blushed.

She reached out with a finger and pushed lightly on the end.

"It's quite hard, isn't it," she said in a surprised voice.

"It is now. It isn't always."

She gently wrapped her hand around it.

"It's so warm," she said.

She slid her hand down its length until she encountered his testicles, which she cupped carefully.

"It's lovely, Harry," she smiled, releasing him and laying back down.

"You're lovely too." he smiled. "I still can't quite believe this. I've been going nuts for weeks now,   
wanting to see you like this but quite sure it would never happen. But here you are, and it's better than I ever imagined."

"Wow," she said. "I really thought that you didn't find me attractive... that is, until I saw your reaction to my bikini."

She grinned as Harry blushed again. Harry thought again about the mental anguish he'd experienced in trying to decide whether or not to make that first move.

"Well, it's hard, isn't it?" he said.

Hermione burst out laughing.

"It certainly is!" she said, nodding at his still rampant dick.

"You know what I meant," Harry protested.

"I'm sorry," she grinned. "But you are so serious sometimes. I thought you were going to choke when I asked you if you ever thought about sex. I've never seen anyone so embarrassed."

She started laughing again.

"You brat," Harry roared. "You did that deliberately?"

She nodded.

"Then it's time I taught you another lesson."

And he prepared to tickle her again but she was ready for him this time and rolled sideways so quickly that, instead of landing on her, Harry landed face-down in the straw. Quick as a flash, it was Hermione who was straddling him and sitting on his backside. Harry was intensely sensitive to tickling and Hermione was totally merciless. She soon had him hysterical and begging her to stop.

Grinning like a Cheshire cat, Hermione removed her fingers from his armpits and knelt up so that Harry was able to roll onto his back, with her still straddling him. She knelt there, totally nude now, her hands on her hips, head tilted to one side, shoulders back, breasts jutting and Harry thought that he had died and gone to heaven. He reached up and fondled her breasts, using a finger to explore her swollen nipples. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back, sighing with pleasure. He took her hands and pulled her down on top of him, feeling her hardened nipples pushing against his chests. Their lips met and, this time, the feelings were even more intense as each knew that they had been granted open access to each other's body.

Harry found himself experiencing new and ever more arousing sensations, such as Hermione's flat belly pressed against his own, her legs spread and stretched alongside his and, wonder of wonders, her pussy forcing his rigid prick down between his legs. Automatic responses that neither had ever experienced before were coursing through their bodies and pure instinct was   
replacing experience and knowledge. Hermione heard Harry grunt with discomfort as his penis was bent painfully downwards, so she slid, slowly, down the length of his body until her hands were on his hips and her face was level with his groin, allowing his dick to spring upright again.

She spent a moment or two studying it again, before reaching out to grasp it with one hand. Hesitantly at first, she leaned down and kissed it and Harry shuddered. She was alarmed for just a second until she realised that it was pleasure not disgust that he was feeling. Encouraged, she kissed it again, then opened her mouth a little to take in the tip, which was starting to seep a pungent, clear fluid that was salty on her tongue. This time, Harry actually groaned with pleasure and she knew that she was on the right track. She may have lacked experience but she didn't lack   
knowledge and she slid her mouth down his shaft as far as was comfortable, sucked hard and then slid back up. Glancing quickly to see what effect this was having on Harry, she saw that his eyes were closed and his head was tilted back in ecstasy.

She tried doing it again and heard Harry say something. She didn't catch all the words but they included "wonderful"... which seemed to be his favourite word of the day. So she continued moving up and down on him and, as she relaxed a little, she was able to take in a little more of him, until she was covering almost all of his length with each stroke.

Harry, too, knew something of the theory of sex but nothing can really prepare an adolescent, boy or girl, for the overwhelming sensations that sweep through the mind and body when sharing that experience for the first time with someone who feels about you as you do about them. Things were moving so fast that he was hardly having time to absorb what was happening,   
although he wanted desperately to savour every moment. Perversely, he didn't want things to slow down... not that his eager, young body would have been in any mood to listen anyway as Hermione's tongue lapped at the throbbing head of his dick, sending tingling shocks along its length.

With your best mates all sleeping just a few feet away, life in a dormitory made self-stimulation next to impossible so Harry's ejaculations to that point had all been as a result of erotic dreams that he instantly forgot after being woken by the violent expulsion of cum under the covers. This time, however, he could feel the welling up of sensation as Hermione continued her steady sliding and sucking. It moved from a twitch to a rhythmic contraction of his stomach muscles, which was quickly accompanied by warmth spreading down to his testicles, causing them to tighten. He felt pressure building at the base of his penis and could feel his heart rate increasing as adrenalin flooded his body.

At last, he knew what was about to happen and he gasped a warning.

"I'm coming, Hermione. I'm coming."

She slid off him just in time and he pumped a powerful stream of white semen onto the straw between his legs.

Hermione watched in awe as jet after jet arced through the air until at last his heaving body spurted just once more and he collapsed back onto the ground in an ecstatic daze, his eyes closed and his chest heaving.

"Wow, Harry," she said at last. "Are you okay?"

"Oh, yes!!" he sighed. "That was fantastic."

"Oh, good," she said, sounding relieved. 

"Just give me a moment," Harry murmured.

Hermione lay down beside him and watched intently as his penis slowly subsided.

"That is so amazing," she said at last. "It's just like magic."

"Yes, well it may take a little magic to get it back up again in a hurry," he grinned.

"Well, we're not in a hurry, are we?" Hermione smiled.

"As far as I'm concerned, I don't want this moment to ever end," Harry said.

Hermione sighed contentedly and lay back.

"That's good then," she laughed.

Harry's breathing soon returned to normal and he sat up, cross-legged, to look at her. All shyness had gone now and she allowed his eyes to take in every inch of her body.

"I want to make you feel good too," he said at last, "but I'm not sure how to do it."

"You don't have to," she said

"Maybe, but I want to," he said. "What should I do?"

"Well, you could rub me... down there."

"You mean... your... your slit?" he asked nervously.

"Yes. There's a spot at the top, my clit, that makes me feel really good when it's rubbed."

"Oh, wow! Okay, if you're sure."

"I'm sure," she smiled.

Harry studied the target area for a moment and then extended an experimental finger. He ran it lightly along the line of her pussy.

"Like this?" he asked.

"Yes, but a little harder."

Harry followed her instructions and watched her face. Her smile became dreamy and she closed her eyes. As he rubbed backwards and forwards along the line of puckered flesh, he felt the small protrusion at the top end begin to swell and heard Hermione sigh with contentment. The folds of flesh on either side of the slit had started to puff up again and, as he continued to rub, concentrating more and more on the little hardened knob at the top, he felt a trace of moisture   
forming under his finger. The outer lips continued to swell and the trace of moisture became a stream. He saw Hermione's stomach tighten and a low moan of pleasure escaped her lips.

Harry rubbed a little faster and discovered that, now that they were fully swollen, the outer lips had revealed a small entrance at the base of her slit and everything now made sense. He allowed his finger to explore the opening and watched Hermione spread her legs wide to give him and unobstructed view and complete access. His finger probed and, this time, the moan of pleasure was louder. He pressed a little harder but his way was barred by a veil of skin so he returned   
to massaging and tweaking her clit. Hermione began to breathe harder and Harry changed his position to kneel between her spread legs.

Looking down at her, he felt drawn to try doing to her what she had done to him so he bent over and applied his tongue to her crack, newly aware of her musky odour and pungent taste. She positively shuddered with pleasure as his tongue ran over her swollen flesh and found her rigid nubbin. He took it gently between his teeth and pulled. Hermione's body heaved and she   
squealed as a massive orgasm swept through her with the force of a tidal wave. Her bucking body pushed Harry aside and he watched, first in concern and then in awe as she convulsed in ecstasy.

Finally, the wave subsided and she opened her eyes to look at him.

"Thank you, Harry," she sighed. "That was the best ever."

Harry looked puzzled.

"The best ever? Do you mean that someone else has done it to you?"

"Of course not, you idiot. But I have done it to myself."

"Oh," he said.

"Why? Haven't you... done it to yourself, I mean?" she asked.

"Well, no... not exactly."

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "What do you mean... not exactly?"

"Well, what I mean is, I haven't jerked myself off but I do sometimes have dreams that cause me to..."

"Ejaculate?"

"Yes."

"What do you dream about?

"I can't ever remember... but you, I would imagine."

"So what do we do... in your dreams I mean?"

"I told you. I can't remember."

Hermione gave him a wicked grin. "What do you imagine us doing then?" she asked.

Harry blushed and said nothing.

"Come on, Harry. There's no point in being shy now. What do you think about when we're together?"

"Well, I think that you are extremely pretty and very... desirable. You know what happens to me when I see your body so, until now, I've tried not to think about it when you're around."

"And now?"

As if in direct response to her question, Harry felt his prick starting to harden again. Hermione burst out laughing.

"Harry Potter," she said. "Looks like you did bring your magic wand with you after all."

Harry made an instinctive move to cover himself but she stopped him. 

"No, don't hide it, Harry. I am so happy that I can make it do that". She paused for a moment, until he was fully hard again. Then she smiled at him

"I've always been looked at as a "swat" ...you know... clever, but a pain. Oh, it's alright. I know what people say. I've never thought of myself as being attractive but to see your penis standing up like that... because of me... makes me feel special."

"You are special. You always have been... to me... and to Ron, but maybe in a different way."

"Yes, well... thank you... but we were talking about your imagination and what you saw us doing."

"I'm sorry, Hermione, but I don't think I can tell you."

"Nonsense, Harry."

"No, it's not," he protested.

"I bet I can tell you... and I won't need magic to do it."

Harry just looked at her.

"Harry, you're a really good-looking boy. About four months ago, I sort of knew that what I felt for you was a little more than friendship. The minute I realised that you were feeling something too, all I could think about was that, whatever happened later in life, I wanted you to be my first, maybe my only, lover. I'm not just being conceited when I say that I think you've been thinking the same way, haven't you?"

"Well, yes, of course but, Hermione, it's a humungous step and I'm not sure it's right."

His voice trailed off, and he looked at her miserably.

"Why isn't it..." she asked, "...if you want it and I want it? These next few days may be the only time before we graduate that we'll have the chance to be alone together. And now that Voldemort's back, who knows what dangers we still have to face, or if we'll succeed in beating him. If we lose next time, you know he'll kill us. I don't want to risk going to my grave without knowing what sex is all about, and there's no one else I want to share that with but you."

Harry studied her serious expression and his resolve crumpled.

"Put like that, what can I say? You can see how ready I am but, Hermione, it's very important to me that you know that it's not just the sex. I really do care about you and I want to know that you're really sure about this."

"I do know that you care, Harry, and I'm certain that, if we do this, it'll be for the right reasons," she said.

"Oh, boy! Wow!" was all he could manage.

Hermione burst out laughing at the expression of delight on Harry's face.

"I do have a suggestion, though. I think that we should hold off until tomorrow... and that we should find somewhere more comfortable than a bed of straw. It prickles in places I'd rather not have prickled."

Harry was not sure whether he was disappointed or relieved about the suggested delay but he, too, was finding the floor of the hayloft less than ideal so he readily agreed. Hermione stood up and reached for her panties.

"Before you get dressed again, Hermione...," Harry said, standing also.

Hermione stopped and looked at him.

"What?" she asked.

"I've dreamt about this for so long, can I just look at you for a moment or two first."

Harry saw Hermione blush but she smiled at him too.

"I guess so," she said and, as he watched, enraptured, she did a slow pirouette for him, her eyes returning to his rampant erection as she completed the circle.

"You really are beautiful," he whispered.

"Oh, Harry," she grinned.

She moved to him, stood on tiptoe and flung her arms around his neck, kissing him hard. His hands went to her buttocks and he pulled her close to him, feeling his prick slide down her slit as it was deflected downwards again. She gasped at the contact, and kissed him harder, their tongues clashing in their excitement. Then Hermione pulled herself away.

"I'm not sure I can wait till tomorrow," she laughed.

"They say all good things are worth waiting for," Harry   
replied.

"I know but..."

She pointed to his erection.

"... it seems a pity to waste that."

She dropped to her knees in front of him, and took hold of his shaft, working her hand back and forth along it. Sure that it was as hard as it would get, she leaned in and took him in her mouth again. This time, Harry was so aroused that it was only moments before he felt an orgasm starting to build.

"I'm coming, Hermione," he warned her but she did not back off this time.

"I can't hold off," he shouted, but still she held him fast, her soft lips clamped tight around his rod, sliding and sucking on him.

"Oh, god!!" he yelled, jerking violently as he exploded into her mouth.

Hermione rode out his spasms and swallowed furiously to keep pace with his massive spurts of cum until, at last, he subsided, breathless and weak at the knees.

He was almost in tears.

"Holy shit, Hermione, I'm so sorry," he choked. 

"Don't be. It was my choice and, besides, it tastes a lot better than Polyjuice."

"Oh, my god, Hermione. That was... I mean, I've never felt anything like that. I didn't know I could feel as good as that."

"The best is yet to come, Harry," she smiled. "At least, I hope you'll think it's the best," she added nervously.

"I hope you'll feel the same way," Harry said quickly, "but I don't mind admitting that I'm nervous about it. It's supposed to hurt the girl the first time. Is there a charm or a potion that we can use to prevent that?"

"Even if there were, I wouldn't want to use it. The pain is only supposed to last for a moment or two and it's a part of sharing the first experience with someone. I wouldn't want to miss out on any part of that... especially with you. Don't worry, Harry. Follow your instincts and I'm sure that everything will be fantastic."

She kissed him quickly and then started to get dressed. Harry watched her for a moment or two and then, when his erection finally abated, he followed suit.

Needless to say, Harry didn't neglect to give Hermione a goodnight kiss that night. His only uncomfortable moment was when Dumbledore stopped by to see how Harry was doing soon after he had got into bed.

"Did you have a good day, Harry," he asked.

"Oh, yes, sir, I had a great day," Harry enthused.

"It was not the best day, as far as the weather goes. What did you two get up to?

Harry thought furiously and then came up with a version of the truth.

"After mucking out and feeding the animals, we attended to a few things in the hayloft until the rain stopped."

"Very sensible of you," Dumbledore smiled. "No doubt you got the feel of things up there."

"Oh, yes sir," Harry said, smothering a grin. "I did indeed."

"Good boy. Well, then. I'll wish you goodnight."

"Goodnight, Professor," Harry replied politely.

Thinking back on the momentous events of the day, Harry fully expected to be awake half the night but much to his surprise, he was asleep in moments and slept like a log. 

***

Next day, he awoke to see the sun streaming through the windows. He jumped up and looked outside. It was going to be the perfect day. He jumped into his work clothes and hurried down to the common room. Hermione was already there, dressed for work, and as soon as he arrived, produced a hearty breakfast for them.

"You're going to need your strength today, Harry," she quipped.

They raced through the schedule of tasks and, by 10.30, they were finished... their best time yet.

As they walked back up the hill to the school, to shower and change, Harry looked over at Hermione and still found it hard to believe that, before the day was out, they were going to be lovers in the full sense of the word.

"Where do you think we should go?" he asked shyly.

"I've been thinking about that," she answered. "What do you think about going back to the river bank? It has a place to swim and it also has some shade. We don't want to get sunburn on our parts. It would be a little hard to explain to Madame Pomfrey!"

"That's what I was thinking too. And it's completely private."

"Nonetheless, Harry, this time I think we should take our wands with us, just in case we run into someone unexpectedly. I'd want to be able to make sure they forgot they ever saw us."

"Good idea," Harry agreed. "Okay, the river bank it is and, this time, I guess we won't need swimming costumes, will we!"

Forty-five minutes later, they were ready to leave. Harry had chosen a green golf shirt and white shorts. As usual, he was first to arrive in the Hall. When Hermione arrived, she was wearing a one-piece outfit that looked a little like a boiler suit, except that it was in light blue denim. It had a zip that ran from the neck to the crotch. If he was being honest, Harry was a little disappointed that she had not chosen something a little sexier but, knowing what was ahead, he didn't   
complain. They set out and were unusually quiet as they wended their way alongside the forest to the point where the pathway led down to the river. From there, it was another fifteen minutes to the grassy knoll beside the swimming hole.

Harry had brought a soft blanket with him and he spread it on the grass under the shade trees. On this occasion, they were able to whisk up a splendid picnic at the flick of a wand. Harry was so nervous that he ate only a little of what was on offer but Hermione tucked in with gusto. Once they had finished eating, another flick and the residue vanished. Hermione kicked off her shoes, settled back happily on the blanket using her backpack as a pillow, and looked up at Harry.

"You're very quiet, Harry," she said. "Not having second thoughts are you?"

"Not at all," Harry said quickly, "but, quite honestly, I'm very nervous as well as very excited."

"Yes... well it's a big step I know, but I'm ready to take it if you are."

"I just don't want to disappoint you," Harry confessed.

"I'm sure you won't", she smiled. "Now, lie down next to me and try to relax."

Harry didn't need a second bidding and he stretched out on his side, close to her, propping himself up, as before, on his elbow so that he could look at her. He still could not believe that this beautiful girl with the twinkling eyes, the adorable snub nose and the sparkling smile was as infatuated with him as he was with her. As if to make sure he was not dreaming, he leaned over and kissed her gently on the lips, feeling a reassuring response as she eagerly kissed him back.   
Now that they both knew how things stood between them, there was an unspoken decision not to rush things. They had privacy, they had time and they had each other.

They kissed again, using their tongues to explore lips and teeth. Harry's affection for Hermione overwhelmed him and he kissed her forehead and her cheeks before slipping his head sideways to nibble her ear. She squealed with pleasure and he returned to kissing her lips. Both were acutely aware that the next short while would change their lives and their relationship forever.

His hand trembling again, but with emotion this time, not fear, Harry reached for the small metal tag to the zip that ran down the entire length of Hermione's denim boiler suit. Hermione watched his face as he slowly began to slide the zip down. He was anticipating encountering lacy underwear but, as the zip descended, all that was revealed was bare flesh... no bra. Lower still, and more bare flesh... no panties.

Harry gasped. The denim suit was the only garment Hermione was wearing! All morning, just one zip had separated him from complete access to her body. He gaped and looked up at Hermione's face. She was grinning like mad.

"Ye gods, Hermione!" he gasped. "That's the sexiest thing I've ever seen. I just love it."

"So I see," she laughed, pointing at the tent in his shorts. 

"Well, you're so beautiful, what do you expect," he protested.

"Thank you, Harry," she laughed, "but you'd better get those shorts off before they split."

All shyness now gone, Harry hurried to strip off all his clothes while Hermione wriggled out of the gaping boiler suit. Both now completely naked, they lay back down and simply looked at each other for a while. Harry noted that Hermione was equally aroused, her nipples perky and even her clit quite prominent as she gazed at his raging hard-on. He gently fondled her breast,   
running a finger over the stiff little stem and then around it, feeling the granulations of the areola   
before squeezing the firm flesh and leaning in to suck on the tip.

This elicited a long sigh as Hermione, in turn, felt for, and held, Harry's throbbing prick. Harry   
alternated kisses between her breasts and then started to plant them lower, on the gradual slope leading down to her belly button. Hermione released him as he continued to move down on her. His tongue tickled her belly button and she giggled wildly and then she felt him moving lower still, over her flat, firm belly to her mound.

"Oh Harry," she murmured as he licked her delta before moving on again.

"Oh... Harry!!" she sighed happily as his tongue found and toyed with her fully engorged clit.

She was unable to lie still under his probing and her body began to twist and turn as his tongue flickered back and forth, then down again, along her flooding labial channel to where her vagina was now opening to his darting tongue.

"Oh, god, Harry. You're driving me mad. Do it... do it now... please," she begged.

She spread her legs wide and Harry moved to stretch out over her. He lowered his body until he could feel his prick grazing her labia. He slid the sensitive tip back and forth along her slit, poking at her clit, driving her body wild with desire for him and rousing him to a peak of anticipation for the final act.

"Please, Harry. Just put it in me... please!" she wailed.

Harry lowered his body still further until he felt the tip of his penis settle against her hole. He tested the resistance and heard Hermione's sharp intake of breath, which he took as a signal that she was bracing herself for the piercing of her hymen. He pushed down... hard, and she whimpered as he broke through the thin veil that guarded her entrance. Harry felt himself sliding   
into her warm, welcoming passage. 

Slowly, he pushed all the way in, feeling the walls of her vagina accepting him and gripping him firmly. He felt the tip of his shaft grazing her cervix and marvelled that such a small entrance would hide a passage supple enough to accept all of him. Now fully encased in her, he paused to allow her to recover from the initial pain. He felt light-headed with joy and was aware of an indescribable sense of building pleasure.

"Are you alright?" he asked, supporting his weight on his outstretched arms.

"I'm fine," Hermione grunted, "or I will be in a moment. God, Harry, I was right. It is big."

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I'll pull out."

He started to do so but she clamped her hands on his butt and pulled him back down into her.

"You'll do no such thing, Harry Potter. It feels so... I don't know what to say. You fill me up and somehow makes me feel complete."

"I think I know what you mean. I feel a total part of you and yet very much me."

"That's it exactly," Hermione smiled, "but, by the way it's throbbing inside me, I think your "wand" is ready to perform some more magic."

"Only if you're okay."

"I told you, I'm fine. And don't pull out at the last minute. The one piece of real magic I've used is to make sure that I don't get pregnant."

Harry slowly pulled back and then slid deep into her again, drawing a happy sigh from Hermione. Relieved that she no longer seemed to be hurting, he tried it again and when Hermione showed no sign of discomfort, Harry relaxed and let nature take over. He began a slow, steady pumping up and down, concentrating on allowing the top of his shaft to rub against Hermione's clit on most of his strokes. The result was, indeed, almost magical. Already highly aroused, Hermione began to breathe heavily, then pant. Her body started to heave spasmodically and then took up the accelerating rhythm with him so that, as he was thrusting down, she was thrusting up to meet him. 

Faster they went and Hermione felt as though her nipples might burst at the tip of her firm breasts that, to Harry's delight, were bouncing in unison with his thrusts. At this point, there was no stopping the rush of sensation that both were now feeling. Heat spread to their pounding loins, their breathing became strained, ecstasy that was almost pain surged to penis and vagina. In perfect unison, they crested, crying and laughing, as the most intense wave of pleasure either   
had ever felt, or imagined, held them frozen together and his hot sperm splashed over the back of her pulsating passage in powerful bursts.

At that moment, Harry would not have cared if Voldemort himself had appeared and struck him dead, for he was sure that there could be no greater bliss possible than this. Hermione, too, was – at that moment - totally fulfilled. Harry loved her for herself, thought her beautiful and had consummated his feelings in a manner that promised even greater hope for their future... for   
love... unconditional love between two people... was the one thing that Voldemort could not overcome. Individually, she knew that she and Harry were powerful. Together, she believed that they would be insuperable.

And in that moment, too, something that had been puzzling her suddenly made sense. She had been surprised by the amount of freedom from supervision she and Harry had been allowed. After all, they were adolescents... with all that implied. But now it occurred to her that Dumbledore and McGonagall almost certainly knew what was developing between her and   
Harry. After all, they seemed to be aware of everything else. 

She now saw that – far from preventing it – they had, in all probability, turned a deliberately blind eye, permitting the relationship to mature for the very reason that it would give she and Harry a powerful weapon against Voldemort that he would not likely anticipate. Surprise would give them the edge against him.

She lay there with Harry locked in her arms and still deep inside her, feeling that the die was cast and that they now had a real chance to beat Voldemort once and for all. 

END

 


End file.
